


smothered

by kenzsza



Series: College AU [4]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018), The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29569002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenzsza/pseuds/kenzsza
Summary: Something is wrong with Patroclus' boyfriend, and he intends to find out what it is.
Relationships: Achilles & Patroclus (Song of Achilles), Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game), Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles), Achilles/Patroclus of Opus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Series: College AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146224
Comments: 52
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i had a comment saying i should write hurt/comfort and this happened. please heed the tags :)

Bri doesn't care much for Achilles. 

She says he's full of himself, that his ego was too big for his stupidly hard head. Which, maybe it was true that Achilles was just a _bit_ too prideful, but there was nothing wrong with that. If Patroclus was nearly as talented as his boyfriend, he'd probably boast just as often. Patroclus thinks deep down Bri is just worried about him, but it gets old to listen to his best friend grumble about Achilles. 

Which is why it's so strange she accompanies Patroclus to one of Achilles' meets. It's on campus, sure, but it's also during the weekend. Usually Bri would sleep in until the afternoon and go out with friends later. Patroclus didn't think she'd be caught dead on the track field at nine in the morning. 

"I miss you," she'd explained. "Your dumb boyfriend has been taking up all your time. Is that even healthy?" At the time, Patroclus had only tilted his head in confusion. He didn't think he spent too much of his time with Achilles. His boyfriend would come over most days and spend the night more nights than not, and Achilles walked him to class and to his car, and they ate most of their meals together… 

Fine, so maybe they were around each other a lot. But Patroclus never grew bored of Achilles. There wasn't the threat of his social meter draining and exhaustion settling in from being around people for too long. Achilles was just… different. 

Patroclus has a notebook open in his lap and his textbook turned to a specific page on the seat next to him. On his other side is Bri, hunched over with her feet propped on the guardrail. She types on her phone a little more aggressively than necessary. Bri had been annoyed that Patroclus insisted they go to Achilles' meet before doing anything else that day, but he wouldn't miss one of Achilles' events for anything. 

"Where's Golden Boy?" Bri asks, not looking up from her phone. She'd called Achilles that ever since Patroclus first described him: _he has the nicest golden hair._ It had started out as a way to tease Patroclus for his crush, but it ended up sticking. It was absolutely mortifying when she pulled the nickname when Achilles was with them.

"On his way." Patroclus jots down a few notes in his book. "He woke up late." He doesn't know why his stomach flutters with nerves. Achilles never did poorly during a match, always winning a medal or trophy or breaking some sort of record. Patroclus wonders if it's because Bri is here for once. It's as if her presence would affect Achilles' performance, or Patroclus wants Achilles to do well so Bri can begin to see what Patroclus saw when he looked at his boyfriend.

"Nope, he's right here!" Patroclus turns at the familiar voice and can't help the wide smile that stretches across his face. He climbs over Bri to meet Achilles at the stairs of the stadium seating, much to his friend's irritation. 

Achilles is pretty as ever. He has his hair tied in a ponytail, and he wears their school colors on his jersey. Patroclus thinks he looks wonderful all the time, but he secretly appreciates this get up a little more than some of Achilles' other outfits. The shorts, for one, were too tight to leave much to imagination and hugged his ass just right. 

Patroclus grabs Achilles by the face and kisses him, sighing contently through his nose. Now everything felt right again, even as Bri was making gagging sounds from behind him. "Don't you need to get down to the field?" Patroclus asks, leaning back just enough so their noses brush together. Achilles was just barely on time to talk to his coach before starting. The other teams were already stretching and warming up on the other side of the field. 

"Sure, but I needed to see you first." Achilles backs away reluctantly, one hand reaching to take Patroclus'. "I couldn't possibly start without saying hi to my lucky charm." Patroclus almost hates himself for how he swoons. As if Achilles relied on him for his victories and not his ridiculous ability to be amazing at everything. 

"You're both revolting," Bri says. 

"Missed you too," Achilles replies. He didn't exactly love her either, but he didn't complain for Patroclus' sake. 

His coach must have spotted him, because the man is yelling at him to stop fucking around and come down already. "I'll be rooting for you," Patroclus murmurs. A promise just for the two of them. 

Achilles lifts Patroclus' hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles. "I'll win just for you." He says it before every match, but it still makes Patroclus' heart leap every time. Their routine was disgustingly sentimental, and Patroclus loves it that way. 

His boyfriend leaves with one last wave to Patroclus and Bri. " _I'll win just for you_ ," Bri echoes when he's gone. "I cannot believe you can be so gross." Her face is screwed up as if she ate a lemon. "My best friend Pat: the rom com lead. You know, if I was watching that movie, I'd turn it off." 

Patroclus sits back beside her with a huff. "Okay, okay, I know you don't like him." He'd worried about Bri's opinion on Achilles when they first started dating. Did Patroclus change for the worse when he was with someone? Was Achilles rude to Bri when Patroclus wasn't there? But no, it hadn't been any of that. Bri just didn't like his personality and made sure Patroclus was well aware of it at all times. 

"It's not that I don't like him." She leans against Patroclus. "Just he's a total moron, and I'm pretty sure you're losing brain cells from being around him." Bri shakes her head as if it's a real tragedy. "How will you ever be a nurse with an IQ of four?" 

"Ha ha." He takes her point of view with a grain of salt. “Are you sure you aren’t just jealous?”

Bri gasps and holds a hand over her heart. “Me? Jealous of you and your gross boyfriend? How did you ever figure it out?” she teases. Her eyes are wide with astonishment, mouth agape in feigned shock. “You’re right, Pat. I wish _I_ were the one calling you dumb pet names and feeling you up in public.” 

Patroclus covers his mouth to hide a smile. “He doesn’t feel me up-”

“Oh, _Patroclus_!” Her voice is lowered to mimic Achilles crudely. Bri drapes herself across Patroclus’ lap, a hand laid dramatically over her forehead. “How can I possibly go on without my minute by minute kisses? I’m going to wither away into nothing!”

“You’re so annoying!” 

“I’m _melting_.” She grasps her throat and coughs pitifully. “I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Only your kisses can save me, Patroclus!” Bri sits up and makes kissing noises as she invades Patroclus’ personal space. Laughter bubbles in his throat as he pushes her away by the shoulder. She really was the worst! They’re getting a few weird looks from the teams on the field as well as other people in the stands, but Patroclus had learned to just accept it as part of being Bri’s best friend. Her lips are way too close to his cheek, and he shrieks as he puts a hand on her forehead to keep her from landing a wet kiss on his face.

The loud speaker crackles to life overhead. “ _First call for men’s four by eight hundred relay event._ ” Patroclus gives Bri one hard shove and she's back in her seat with a pout. It was Achilles' first event, and Patroclus wouldn't dare miss even a single second of his boyfriend dominating the track. 

He looks down at the track and catches sight of Achilles. It's hard to miss him: his head of blond hair is a few inches above most of the other male athletes, his shoulders wider as well. Achilles is looking right back up at him. There's a frown set deep in his features, his gaze flitting to Bri. _He's jealous._ Patroclus smiles back at Achilles. He's always been strange about his friendship with Bri. Achilles didn't appreciate how touchy they were, how Bri would pull Patroclus down for a kiss on the cheek or tuck herself against his side. As soon as Bri figured out what got on Achilles' nerves, she'd lean into it like twisting a blade into his stomach. 

Patroclus waves at his boyfriend. Achilles grins up at him and lifts his hand. For a moment it's like they're in their own world where they're the only people who exist. Patroclus feels Bri shaking his shoulder and he knows she's probably complaining, but he can't tear his gaze away. It was like love at first sight, except Patroclus fell every time he laid eyes on Achilles. 

One of Achilles' teammates comes up behind him and slaps him on the back in greeting. It's enough to jolt Achilles from their shared trance. He turns to his friend, probably to argue with him with how his shoulders tense, and the friend looks up at Patroclus and smiles knowingly. Patroclus can't help but smile back. Everyone on the team knew they were together. It was hard for them not to: Achilles would run into Patroclus' arms and kiss him at the end of every meet and sit with his arm around Patroclus' shoulders at their celebratory lunch afterwards. 

"Seriously, get a room," Bri groans beside him. 

"We were just looking at each other," Patroclus argues. Really, she'd find a way to complain about anything. 

"You were practically fucking each other with your eyes."

Patroclus snorts and kicks her in the shin. "What does that even _mean_?" 

" _Second call for men's four by eight hundred relay_." Achilles' other teammates gather around. His first friend is laughing and pointing up at the bleachers, probably telling them something along the lines of _yeah, our star runner Achilles was just standing there staring at his boyfriend like a lovesick puppy._ Achilles waves him off angrily and stomps away to the starting line. His teammates follow behind, pushing him and snickering loud enough for even Patroclus to hear from so far away. 

The men all take their positions on the track. Achilles isn't the first in the relay- he usually goes last to make up for any lost time. Patroclus watches him stretch at the edge of the track, bending over and touching his toes. The way his shirt rides up and his ass sticks out in his shorts is almost sinful. 

Achilles turns as if to make sure Patroclus is looking. The smile that crosses his face makes Patroclus' heart leap. He knew exactly what he was doing, the bastard. 

Bri sighs and crosses her legs underneath her in her seat. "I don't know how you can sit here every weekend watching a bunch of dudes running." She leans her elbow on Patroclus' shoulder. "Although I guess a ton of muscular men in shorts is right up your alley, huh?" Bri snickers at her own joke as Patroclus' face warms uncomfortably. He was here for completely innocent reasons! 

The last call for the participants rings out overhead. "You're terrible, you know that?" Patroclus grumbles. 

"As your best friend, it is my sworn duty to irritate you." Patroclus remembers why he never invites her anywhere. This was a rare case, an unfortunate instance where him and Bri were going to hang out in the afternoon. Bri had insisted she come to the meet with him to spend more time together, much to Patroclus' horror. 

Patroclus leans against the guard rail. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Bri still typing on her phone. She had never been very interested in sports. Not even the gun going off for the first event to start captures her attention. 

Achilles had introduced his teammates to Patroclus before, and Patroclus had spent enough time around them to be able to gauge their personalities. The first guy up to race with the baton is Ajax: a great runner, but not a very good student. Patroclus found he couldn't ever exchange more than a few words with him without growing exhausted. He watches with mild interest as Ajax makes his way around the track, just barely pulling ahead of the other teams. 

Patroclus can't help but glance at Achilles. His boyfriend is restless, bouncing from foot to foot and shaking out his wrists. He smiles a little bit. Achilles was born to be an athlete, so naturally gifted and full of endless stamina. He's surprised Achilles can stand still long enough to wait to run the relay. 

The baton is passed off to the next teammate, Odysseus. Patroclus watches his school colors flash from one hand to another as the rod is exchanged. 

"Running track is a lot like running on a hamster wheel, don't you think?" Bri asks. She's hunched in her seat, eyes glazed over with boredom. "Just run and run in a circle and don't go anywhere. Wouldn't it get boring?" 

Menelaus is next. Achilles is itching to go. He bends down to tighten his shoelaces and get into position. There's a wicked grin on his face, one that Patroclus has come to expect whenever Achilles is feeling competitive. 

"They don't just practice on the track," Patroclus explains. "Achilles usually jogs around town." He loved when Achilles spent the night at his place, but Patroclus didn't exactly appreciate being roused at five in the morning as his boyfriend got up to take a lap around campus. Achilles had begged him to join once or twice, and Patroclus occasionally relented. It usually just ended up with him being left in the dust. 

"Ah, yeah. I thought I'd seen those booty shorts somewhere." Bri rolls her eyes. "Are those even made for men?" 

"They are," Patroclus says. He'd know: he helped Achilles pick them out. 

Finally, Menelaus is approaching Achilles. Patroclus sits up. Achilles has a lot of ground to gain, one of the teams already passing off their baton to the last relay racer. His boyfriend's hand is stretched out behind him, his feet in position to push off. The baton barely grazes his fingers, and Achilles is gone. 

"Holy shit," Bri murmurs. She leans forward as Achilles sprints around the track. "He's like a bullet."

Patroclus hides his smile behind his hand. He can't help but be so proud of Achilles. His boyfriend is made to race, his long strides easily making up for lost ground. The team member that had been in first watches in unmasked shock as Achilles passes him with ease. There’s a tense silence, as if everyone is holding their breaths as if caught in the same trance as Patroclus and Bri. 

The other teams don't stand a chance. Achilles is at the finish line long before any of the others. He skids to a stop, raising the baton over his head like it's a trophy. The home crowd goes wild, whooping and cheering. Students wearing school colors stand up and shout Achilles' name. His boyfriend waves, chest heaving as he catches his breath and the widest grin on his face. 

"Wow," Bri says. Her eyes are wide as she watches Achilles pump his fist in the air.

“I know.” Achilles finds Patroclus in the bleachers and gives him a thumbs up. Patroclus mirrors the action. His boyfriend blows a kiss in response. _It was for you,_ it says.

There's a few other events before Achilles is up again. He celebrates with his teammates as their victory is announced over the speakers, earning a slap on the back from their coach and a lot of shoves from his friend. Patroclus thinks of before, when Bri was saying he's self-centered. That wasn't true. Achilles deserves to be praised, and he was getting what was well-earned. 

As soon as there's a break in the crowd, Achilles runs up the stairs to Patroclus. "How did I do!" he shouts excitedly. His golden hair is wild from the wind and sticks to his forehead with sweat. 

Patroclus aches. Every time Achilles would ask, and every time Patroclus gave a similar answer, yet, Patroclus never tired of their routine. "Amazing," Patroclus breathes. 

"Are you on steroids or something?" Bri asks. Achilles climbs over her and falls into Patroclus' outstretched arms. He's gross and sweaty, but Patroclus kisses his forehead anyways. His boyfriend would pout and complain if he didn’t give him a hug. 

"Nope!" Achilles moves Patroclus' textbooks aside and sits beside him. "You're not the first to ask, though. I get tested once a month." He puts his chin on Patroclus' shoulder. Patroclus wrinkles his nose. Just a little too much information for his liking. 

The rest of Achilles' team sits on the bottom row of the bleachers, talking and laughing. Patroclus had never seen Achilles sit with them once. The one time he'd asked had been before they were dating. Achilles had waved away the question. _They'll get over it,_ he'd said. _I'd much rather spend time with you, anyways._ Patroclus still felt guilty for taking Achilles’ attention away from his friends, but the more he got to know them the more he understood that Achilles didn’t really care for them anyways. Most of his teammates were meatheads with a crude sense of humor, and Achilles would never go out of his way to be around them any longer than he had to.

Achilles participates in another sprinting event and finally, javelin throwing. He’s almost broken more school records for distance throwing than any student previously, all tied up with the last legend that had graced the campus. Today would be a chance to get his name in the school’s history books. It’s all he’s talked about for the past few weeks, and his excitement is plain as day when his event is called at last.

“I’ll see you in a few,” Achilles says as he begins to leave. He points to his cheek and smiles at Patroclus. “A kiss for good luck?”

Patroclus can do him one better. He cups Achilles’ face in his hands and pulls him in close, pressing their lips together. Achilles makes a muffled noise in surprise. He melts into Patroclus and collapses halfway on his lap, much to Bri’s horror. She scoots to the edge of her seat to get as far away from them as possible.

“Hey, lover boy!” Patroclus parts from Achilles just far enough to see who’s calling for him. Odysseus stands at the bottom of the stadium seating, hands cupped over his mouth. “Stop making out with your boyfriend! You’re up!” Achilles turns to glare at him, and Patroclus can’t help but laugh. He’d long gotten over being embarrassed around Achilles’ friends. 

“Fuck off, man! Give me a sec!” Achilles shouts back. Odysseus flips him off before returning to the rest of his teammates. 

Patroclus can feel his irritation radiating off of him like heat. He plants one last kiss on Achilles’ cheek, his lips lingering against his skin. “Go get ‘em,” Patroclus murmurs, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Achilles’ ear. He exchanges a smile with his boyfriend before Achilles is up and rushing to the field before last call. 

There’s a painted rectangle on the field that Achilles stands at one end of. A group of other students from different teams are gathered in a semi-circle around the perimeter. His coach passes him his javelin, and Achilles takes it with a nod and a grateful smile. It’s taller than he is by a good two feet, and once again Patroclus is blown away by how anyone, even his Achilles, can manage to throw something so long and awkward.

“Seems kind of dangerous,” Bri comments. After watching Achilles for the first time, he has her undivided attention. Her phone sits face down on her thigh. “I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that.” 

Patroclus watches the spectators back far away from where the javelin was going to hit. By now, everyone who had heard of Achilles was well aware of just how far he could throw. “He has a good aim,” Patroclus replies. He isn’t exactly sure how Achilles can even aim the damned thing, but he always seems to do quite well.

“He would have thrived in the hunting-gathering age.” Bri shakes her head. “Hunting bears and all that. He might have even been one of the smartest cavemen, too... Maybe, I'm not too sure.” Patroclus elbows her in the side. There was no need to be rude.

There’s three students that go before Achilles. Every one of them amazes Patroclus with how effortlessly they seem to launch their javelin across the field. He can’t help but admire the arm strength it must take. Each javelin easily goes one, two hundred feet, and even Bri is impressed as their distances are called over the speakers. 

“Hard to see how even Golden Boy is gonna top that,” Bri says as the last student before Achilles has his distance measured. A little over seventy-seven meters. He’s broken a record for his school, and his teammates gather around to congratulate him. But Achilles looks unimpressed, bored even. He takes one look at the guy and shoves past him to his starting position. 

Achilles’ name is announced overhead. Hearing it sends a shiver down Patroclus’ spine. “ _...representing… University. Achilles is a freshman who has taken the college javelin throwing scene by storm..._ ” 

“Your boyfriend’s a celebrity,” Bri murmurs. _As he should be_ , Patroclus thinks. 

Achilles is emboldened by hearing praise over the speakers. He always gets funny when he was complimented and lauded. It would straighten his back, and Achilles would smile like he was ready to take on the world with his bare hands. 

“ _...look out for him today. He’s going to be attempting to one up the streak of most records broken by one student and possibly break the previous distance record set by none other than himself._ ” 

Patroclus covers his mouth with his hands as he watches Achilles stand readied, javelin in one hand. There’s no gun shot this time, only the shrill trill of a whistle blowing. Where Achilles had been standing is dust. 

He runs down the four meters of track, javelin poised overhead. It’s like an extension of his body more than a pole he’s throwing for sport. Achilles hurls the javelin in a long arch overhead, skidding to a stop just before the four meter mark. Patroclus isn’t sure if he should watch his boyfriend, one hand over his eyes as he watches his javelin’s journey, or if he should focus on the landing. There’s an explosion of cheers, and Patroclus realizes he's been staring at Achilles the whole time. His gaze turns towards the javelin sticking up in the ground.

Achilles doesn’t make his way up to Patroclus just yet. He stands beside his coach, the elder man’s hand on his shoulder as one of the judges measures the distance. They sit in a tense silence as the tape measure is drawn across the ground. The other teams whisper amongst themselves. 

“ _Eighty-eight point seven meters!_ ” Achilles throws his hands in the air with a loud whoop, and the crowd follows suit with loud applause. “ _His team once again takes the gold! Achilles has not only broken the record for his own school, but he’s broken an all time record for the west coast! We’re looking at the man to beat, here!_ ” 

Patroclus doesn’t realize he’s gotten up until Bri is loudly asking where he thinks he’s going. He makes his way down the stairs and runs to where his boyfriend is getting congratulated by his whole team and some of the students from other schools. There’s a few people working the meet that try to stop him, but Patroclus swerves out of the way of their outstretched hands.

“Achilles!” Patroclus shouts. Achilles turns in surprise at his name. His eyes widen, and the grin on his face is contagious. Patroclus smiles until his cheeks hurt. Achilles pushes through the crowd of students surrounding him and opens his arms in time for Patroclus to jump into them. 

“Patroclus! How’d I do?” Achilles asks. Patroclus feels himself being lifted off the ground. He holds Achilles tightly with his arms around his neck as his toes scramble to find purchase below him. 

Patroclus takes Achilles’ face in his hands and kisses him. His team catcalls and whoops behind them, but he doesn’t care. His boyfriend was a _champion._ His Achilles, the boy he’d fallen so hard for and the boy who had chosen him out of everyone in the world. Patroclus’ heart swells with emotions he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to fully comprehend. He wasn’t the one who had won gold, but Patroclus is full of pride nonetheless. Achilles’ victory felt as if it were own.

“Wonderful,” Patroclus breathes against Achilles’ lips. “Incredible. You’re like a god.” 

There’s the shutter of a camera- one of the newspaper people, for sure. Patroclus looks up in time to see a girl looking down at the picture she had taken. She glances up and meets his gaze. With a smile, she flashes a thumbs up.

Achilles sets him gently on the ground. He keeps an arm around Patroclus’ waist protectively, hand resting on his hip. The announcer goes on comparing Achilles to the previous victor and continues about the upcoming award ceremony, and his coach is giving Achilles’ team a pep talk, but Patroclus doesn’t hear a thing. He stays nestled safely against Achilles’ side, his boyfriend’s lips pressed to the top of his head. No one gives him a second glance. It was all too common for Achilles to bend the rules in order to have Patroclus by his side.

He and Bri stay long enough to see the awards passed out, much to Bri’s annoyance. Achilles wins gold in every event he participated in. When he’s given the gold for javelin throwing, he’s asked to say a few words. Achilles visibly grows excited and takes the microphone from the announcer.

“I’d like to dedicate this victory to the man who continues to inspire me each and every day,” he says into the mic, voice steady and sure. Patroclus feels people staring at him, and he can’t help but sink in his seat with embarrassment. “My beloved, Patroclus.” 

Achilles is ushered off the stage as the audience breaks out into applause at the same time as Patroclus is dragged out of the room by Bri, who has obviously had more than enough for one day.

“All this so I could go to the movies with your gay ass,” she grumbles as she pulls Patroclus by the wrist.

…

Afterwards, Achilles is different.

Patroclus notices it in small ways: his boyfriend is quieter when they eat together, he stares at his homework for a long time before shaking his head and writing something down. He thinks it must be some sort of mood swing. Achilles had them often enough, and Patroclus had learned the best thing to do was ride them out and support him the entire time.

But instead of resolving itself, it only gets worse. Patroclus reaches down to take Achilles’ hand as they walk together, but Achilles stuffs his hands in his pockets before Patroclus can touch him. “My fingers are cold,” he says. Patroclus nods, but he can’t help but frown. They’d held hands when the entire campus was covered with a layer of snow and their fingers were bright red from the chill. Why was this any different?

He doesn’t prop his feet in Patroclus’ lap when they sit in the library together, and Achilles’ kisses are chaste and pressed quickly against Patroclus’ cheek when they’re in public. 

_He’s tired of you,_ Patroclus’ brain supplies helpfully. It had been one of his biggest fears when they’d first gotten together. Achilles was beautiful and untouchable, and Patroclus was just… himself. Why should Achilles have to settle for someone like him? There were so many other people on campus that he could choose from- girls who were pretty and thin with curves for miles, guys who shared similar interests and could take care of Achilles the way Patroclus so desperately wanted to. Eventually, Achilles would surely see he could do better. Patroclus had decided early on that he would gladly stay by Achilles’ side for as long as he would let him. If and when he wanted to leave, Patroclus would let him go. He loved Achilles to much to hold him down forever.

But as time went on, Patroclus had gotten comfortable. He liked the affection and the praise and being able to bask in Achilles’ light. The fear had subsided, and as Patroclus and Achilles began to learn what the other liked, Patroclus realized he was just as capable of providing for Achilles as anyone else. Achilles might be taller and his shoulders more broad, but he’d sleep in Patroclus’ arms like he was searching for refuge against a cruel world. Patroclus thought everything was fine.

Patroclus brings it up as casually as possible: Achilles, is everything okay with school? His boyfriend looks baffled, head cocked to one side like a confused puppy. “Yeah,” he says. “Why wouldn’t it be? Everything okay with you?” Patroclus thinks _no, something is terribly wrong._ But if Achilles sees nothing out of the ordinary, then there was no reason to worry him.

“Everything is fine,” Patroclus says. Whether he’s reassuring Achilles or himself, he isn’t entirely sure.

…

Achilles spends less time at Patroclus’ apartment, and what few stolen moments they have there are heated. Patroclus would open the door, and as soon as it closed behind Achilles his boyfriend would be on him and tearing at his shirt. There was never enough time to ask if Achilles was alright. His lips would be on Patroclus’ the very second they were alone.

“Ask him about it,” Bri says simply. She twists a fork in her spaghetti. “I don’t think he’s the type of guy to just catch on that you’re worried.”

Patroclus can only look down at the table. He wasn’t hungry, settling for an iced coffee and a bagel that he had yet to touch from the nearby cafe. “I did,” he mumbles. “He said he’s fine.” 

Bri squints. She stuffs her mouth full of noodles and chews thoughtfully. “Do you think he’s seeing other people?” she asks once she’s swallowed. The thought alone is enough to send a chill straight to Patroclus’ heart. He thinks of Achilles with a girl on his arm, Achilles tucked against some handsome guy’s side. It makes him sick. No matter how rocky their relationship might get, Achilles wouldn’t do that to him- _couldn’t_. It would shatter Patroclus to a million tiny pieces, and he would never be able to piece them back together.

“I don’t think so,” Patroclus manages. “Something else.” 

His friend sets her fork down in her food and reaches across the table to take Patroclus by the hands. He glances up and meets her gaze, brown eyes swimming with concern. “Hey,” she says with a small smile, “I’m sure it’s not that either. You’re way too freaking cool.” Her eyes flash. _And I’ll fucking kill him if it is the case_ , they finish for her. 

“Maybe he’s sick of me.” Patroclus pulls his hands away from Bri and into his lap. “We’ve been spending so much time together… surely he’s bored.” 

Bri sighs. “I mean, it’s normal for couples to get kinda sick of each other. I just didn’t think that would ever apply to you guys.” She chews on the inside of her cheek as she thinks. “Maybe suggest taking a break? Have some time to yourselves? I know that works for some people.” 

Patroclus’ stomach drops to the floor. The thought of staying away from Achilles, of not waking up to his kisses in the morning or spending his weekends at home instead of in the stands cheering for his boyfriend… It rips a chasm open in him that threatens to swallow him whole.

Bri looks worried. “You okay?” she asks. She puts the back of her hand on Patroclus’ forehead to check his temperature. “You got really pale all of a sudden.” 

“No break,” he breathes. “I don’t think I can do that.” He can’t remember a life before Achilles. His golden boy had made his way into all of Patroclus’ memories. Surely Achilles was at his high school graduation, insisting he take a selfie with his boyfriend in his gown and cap? And he must have been there at college orientation the summer before freshman year, playing cards with Patroclus and his assigned group. He feels like his life truly began the day Achilles signed up for his tutoring session. If they took a break and drifted apart, how could he ever recover?

“Okay, no break,” Bri agrees, probably to get Patroclus to calm down. “But you need to talk to him. You guys don’t keep stuff from each other. Something is obviously wrong with him.”

Patroclus rubs the back of his neck. There’s a thin sheet of sweat from the terror that had overcome him. “Sure. I’ll ask.” 

…

Achilles comes over to talk, and he ends up on top of Patroclus. Patroclus is on the couch in the living room with hickeys being sucked onto his skin before he can even realize what had happened. He can’t breathe much less try to strike a conversation, his boyfriend ravishing him like he’s never been touched before in his life.

“Are you tired of me?” Patroclus asks breathlessly when Achilles moves from his neck to his collarbone. He pauses, lips puffing hot air across Patroclus’ chest.

“No,” he answers immediately. “Never.” 

He shoves a hand down the front of Patroclus’ pants, and any chance of talking flies out the window.

…

Patroclus doesn't see Achilles for a few days. He goes from concerned to furious. 

_Achilles: hey pat. no need to show up to my meet today_

_You: what?_

_You: why?_

_Achilles: oh, u know! it's gonna be real boring lol_

_Achilles: same old same old_

_Achilles: and that way you can spend time w bri!_

He never did this. Ever since they'd become friends, Achilles would pick up Patroclus every weekend to go to his meets. They hadn't missed a single weekend. Not when Bri would complain that she never hung out with Patroclus, not when Patroclus caught a cold and sat bundled up in two jackets in the stands feeling miserable. This was just not normal. 

The second week he tells Patroclus not to come, Patroclus decides he's had enough. He's tired of beating around the bush. Achilles has had enough time to fess up what was the matter, and Patroclus is sick of pretending they're okay. He's in his car and pulling out of the parking lot of his apartment complex before he can give it a second thought. 

Patroclus knows what time Achilles' meets usually let out. If he speeds, he can make it to the field in time to catch him as he's leaving to get lunch with his teammates. He haphazardly parks his car in a staff space- surely he'd be back in time to go home before getting towed- and turns off the engine. 

Achilles' hoodie is in the passenger seat. It's the same ugly shade of purple their school sports proudly with his last name on the back, and it makes the entire car smell like his cologne. Patroclus is a lot of things, but he isn't strong. He pulls it on over his head and breathes in Achilles' scent. _Please let this make sense. Please let him still love me._

There's a chill outside that sends a shiver down Patroclus' spine. He puts the hood on over his head. A glance at his phone confirms it's around the right time. Patroclus blows warm air into his palms and rubs them together before shoving his hands into his pockets. 

Ten minutes pass. A few of the other teams leave in groups, but there's no sight of the familiar purple jerseys. Fifteen. 

Patroclus is beginning to think he's come too late. "Achilles!" Someone calls from behind him. He begins to turn around, but Patroclus is knocked face first onto the ground before he can catch a glimpse of who's talking. Pain blooms from where he hits his head upon impact, and his right arm goes numb as it twists at an odd angle. "Can't believe you had the nerve to show your face here after skipping out on us. We were gonna go to _nationals_ , Ace." There's a foot in between his ribs. Patroclus wheezes as the air is forced from his lungs. 

"I’m not-” Patroclus tries, but his voice sounds like he’s inhaled a mouthful of smoke. 

“Not what? Not off fucking your boyfriend?” He’s pinned to the ground with a foot on his back. “Look, we never had a problem with some fairies being on the team, but this is getting way out of hand.” Rage boils deep in Patroclus’ veins. Not for himself, but for Achilles. _Don’t talk about him like that._ He doesn’t know what’s going on, but no one would insult his boyfriend. “We were fine with him tagging along and shit before, but if it’s going to get in the way of you making it to meets, you need to dump him and find some other guy to mess around with-” 

The foot leaves his back and nudges him in the side. Patroclus takes the opportunity to take Achilles’ teammate by the ankle and pull as hard as he can. He lands on his ass with a startled grunt as Patroclus rolls out of the way. Patroclus sits up. The hood falls off his head, and he can finally see who exactly attacked him: Odysseus is on the ground, his teammates standing behind him. They all share the same shocked look.

“Oh fuck,” Odysseus breathes. “Achilles is gonna kill us.” 

Patroclus picks himself up off the ground. His arm dangles uselessly by his side. He knows he looks like shit, but he gives them the dirtiest look he can muster. With what little pride he has left, Patroclus turns and limps to his car. Surely there was a doctor nearby open on Saturdays.

…

When Patroclus is asked for an emergency contact, he isn’t sure why Achilles is the first person to come to mind. They were fighting- kind of. Was it fighting if Patroclus was the only one upset in this situation? He fills out his name on the form anyways, and the nurse takes him back to one of the exam rooms.

Patroclus is informed that his arm isn’t broken, but his wrist is sprained and would need a soft brace for a few weeks. That explained the swelling and the mottled purple mark forming. There’s an ugly bruise shaped like a shoe manifesting on his side when the doctor pulls his shirt up to check his ribs. Great. Wonderful. Patroclus is asked who he got in a fight with, and he lies and says he had fallen. 

The doctor obviously doesn’t buy it, but she doesn’t say anything as she passes Patroclus an ice pack to put on his head. “It’s not a concussion, but I’d still like if someone else drove you home,” she explains. “Can I call the number you have listed? An, uh... Achilles?”

“Oh, _please_ do,” Patroclus spits out. He’d love to hear the explanation behind this one. Achilles couldn’t sit and lie to his face if he saw Patroclus like this. 

He can hear Achilles shout on the other end of the phone when the poor nurse tries to explain the situation. _He’s what? How? Where?_ The nurse only has enough time to say what clinic they’re at before the line clicks. “He’s on his way,” she says weakly.

The clinic is ten minutes from Achilles’ dorm, but somehow he makes it in five. Patroclus is sure he ran every single light. 

Patroclus hears his boyfriend before he sees him. “Patroclus!” Achilles cries out. He slides past the door and has to grab onto the frame to stop himself in his tracks. Achilles bursts into the room. His eyes widen when he sees Patroclus. It’s not like he’s _dying_ , but he might as well be with how Achilles collapses on the exam bed next to him and throws his arms around Patroclus’ shoulders. “I was so worried about you!”

He buries his face in Patroclus’ neck, and Patroclus is helpless to do much more than endure it despite his irritation. The nurse stands at the door awkwardly, looking on at the situation unfolding in front of her. “Uh,” she manages. “You’re free to check out, sir.” 

The nurse shows him how to put on the soft brace and gives clear instructions to leave it on for at least a week as well as ice his wrist every day. Achilles frets the entire time, fingers playing with Patroclus' hair as the nurse speaks. It's incredibly distracting, and Patroclus eventually has to smack his hand away. 

They're silent as they make their way to Achilles' pickup truck. Patroclus feels if he says anything right now, he'll immediately regret it for the rest of his life. He's too angry, the emotions still very raw. Achilles was hiding something, and Patroclus got to pay the price for it. Go figure. He only glares at Achilles when he opens the passenger door for him. 

Once inside the car, Achilles turns to Patroclus and clasps his hands in his own. "Who did this?" he demands. His voice shakes with rage. Achilles' green eyes blaze with a familiar anger, the same he'd had on his face when he thought Patroclus had feelings for someone else. "I'll kill them, Pat. I swear to God, I'll hunt them down and-" 

"What are you keeping from me?" Patroclus interrupts tiredly. He could deal with the maiden in distress bullshit later. He wanted answers and he wanted them _now_. "You're suddenly weird about being with me in public, all you want to do at home is fuck, your teammates said you've been skipping practice-"

"Did they do this?" Achilles growls. Patroclus waves the question away. 

"Not the point right now."

" _Patroclus._ "

" _Achilles_ , listen to me." He holds onto Achilles' arm tightly with his good hand. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but if it's got to do with me-" 

"It doesn't." Achilles leaves no room for argument, but it hardly settles Patroclus' nerves. 

"Alright," he says, "then if it's something else, I have a right to know." 

Achilles glances down at Patroclus' hand on his bicep. For a moment, Patroclus worries he might brush him off again, and he isn't sure what he would do if that were the case. But Achilles sighs in defeat and puts his hand on top of his boyfriend's. His fingers are longer, covering Patroclus' completely. The same hands that always made him feel safe. 

"It's my mom," Achilles finally relents. Patroclus hates to admit he's overwhelmed with relief. So they _were_ okay. It had nothing to do with him. It's like a heavy weight has been lifted off his chest and he can breathe for the first time. 

Patroclus gives a small nod in encouragement. They didn't talk about her very often. She was a sore subject, one that would make Achilles fidget and frown any time she was brought up. "What happened?" 

His boyfriend is quiet. Patroclus sees the fear in his eyes, something so foreign to Achilles. He scoots forward in his seat and wraps his arms around Achilles. His boyfriend presses his face into his shoulder and relaxes in his embrace. "She knows," he murmurs, voice muffled against his sweatshirt on Patroclus' body. 

Patroclus rubs his back soothingly. "Knows what?" But he doesn't need Achilles' answer to understand exactly what he means. 

"About us." Achilles turns his head so his nose is brushing Patroclus' neck. Patroclus knows he feels safe there. He tangles his fingers in golden curls and keeps Achilles' head in place. "She called me the other day about it. She yelled at me for an hour about how I was throwing everything away, how I deserved better…" Patroclus' heart sinks, not so much at the insult but at how hurt Achilles sounds. It must break his heart to have someone tear him down like that. He kisses the crown of Achilles' head. "Mom threatened to stop paying for my school if I keep seeing you."

"I thought you had a scholarship?" Patroclus frowns. 

Achilles lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "It doesn't pay for everything," he explains. "There's still some tuition leftover, and my mom pays with her family's money. She says if she sees us together, she'll stop and I'll have to come home." To Achilles, that was the worst possible scenario and Patroclus knew it. He would be trapped all over again, held under her thumb and unable to get away. 

Patroclus doesn't understand, though. "How could she possibly see us?" he asks. "It's not like she lives here- she's across the country." The thought they were being watched makes his skin crawl. 

"I have no idea," Achilles admits sadly, shaking his head. "It's why I was distant. I was so worried she would just… know if I was with you, like she's some sort of Russian spy or something." He holds Patroclus tight in his arms. It makes his ribs hurt where he was kicked, but Patroclus puts up with the pain to comfort him. 

It all made sense now. Patroclus almost feels bad for his anger the past week, for believing for even a moment that his Achilles didn't love him anymore. Of course they were alright. "You sure did seem okay coming to my place," he comments offhandedly. Achilles chokes in response. 

"It was killing me not to touch you." His voice is small, embarrassed. Surely even someone as thick as him could see he'd been a completely different person as of late. "I figured there was no way she could see us in your apartment, so I'd just bottle everything up until I could visit you. It sort of overflowed, I guess."

Patroclus thinks of the hickeys that cover every inch of his chest since Achilles' change in behavior, the sore hips he'd curse when he'd wake up. "I could tell." 

Achilles leans back finally. His face is flushed red, green eyes shiny as if he might tear up. The thought scares Patroclus: he'd never seen Achilles cry. His boyfriend had always been the strong one, the one Patroclus would go to with his insecurities and make everything feel okay. "I didn't want to lose you," Achilles says. "I just thought if I kept my distance, I could still stay by your side." He frowns. "Does that make any sense?" 

"Not really," Patroclus admits. He never did understand Achilles' line of reasoning. His boyfriend sighs in response. 

"Yeah, I guess it doesn't now that I think about it." 

Patroclus bumps their foreheads together. He missed spending time with Achilles and just… existing with him. For the first time in a while, he feels at ease. It's like everything is alright again, even with this new information looming over their heads. "But why didn't you tell me?" he prompts gently. Patroclus isn't mad, but he's a bit let down that Achilles hadn't trusted him enough to confide in him. 

"I didn't want to worry you," Achilles says. He brushes their noses together, and Patroclus thinks of how much he'd missed this. "I'm supposed to be, like, the cool and suave one, you know? Not some scared kid who's afraid of his mom."

Patroclus can't help but smile. "And what would that make me, Mr. Cool and Suave Guy?" 

Achilles chuckles softly. It's the first time Patroclus has seen him lighten up in a while. "The cute and sensible one?" Achilles suggests. 

"Nice save." Patroclus cups Achilles' cheek with one hand, thumb stroking his face tenderly. "But you know I wouldn't think any less of you for this, right? I understand completely." 

"I know," Achilles says, "but… I dunno. Maybe I just didn't want to admit she got to me so badly, and I definitely didn't want you to think we were being spied on."

Patroclus does admit that thought made him uneasy. "Did she say how exactly she figured it out?" he asks. He couldn't think of a time on campus he thought he was being watched. Were they really being stalked? If that was the case, their stalker was excellent at covering their tracks. 

Achilles shakes his head. "No, but she knew your name and everything. It was really freaky."

Could his mother seriously have the capability to be able to observe them from a thousand miles away? Achilles had mentioned her family’s power before, but this was beyond that. Patroclus wants to protect Achilles so fiercely it feels like someone is clawing at his throat. He presses a kiss to Achilles’ brow and lets his lips rest there. _I have you_ , he wants to say. _No one can take you away from me._

“Why were you skipping practice?” Patroclus wonders aloud. He still didn’t understand that part of everything. Achilles loved what he did. His boyfriend never dreamt of letting down his team in the past. He molded his entire life around track.

“Tell me who fucked with you,” Achilles counters. 

“Not how this works.” If Achilles really thinks he’d be the one asking questions, he was in for quite a shock. “Fess up,” Patroclus insists. He leans back enough to give Achilles a pointed look. Achilles narrows his eyes. He obviously wants so badly to argue, but he rolls his eyes and looks away instead.

“She said you were distracting me from track,” Achilles explains. “That I could do better. It was sort of a middle finger to her, but I also couldn’t have you coming to my practices since she’d get mad, and…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to go if you weren’t there cheering me on.” Patroclus flushes. How could he ever think his Achilles would be tired of him? 

Patroclus kisses Achilles. He wants so badly to take his sadness away. If Patroclus could carry the weight of his mother’s hatred for both of them, he would gladly do it. For now, all he can do is let Achilles know how dear he was to him.

“You’re an idiot,” Patroclus murmurs against his lips. 

Achilles wrinkles his nose. “Okay, thanks.” 

Patroclus isn’t finished, though. He’s craved Achilles so badly that it had been eating him alive, and Patroclus hadn’t realized just how good it would feel to be back in his arms. He takes Achilles’ bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. Achilles gasps, his breath tickling Patroclus’ face. 

He pulls away once more, and Achilles looks dazed, his green eyes glazed over with want. “You’re an idiot for thinking anyone can break us apart,” Patroclus continues softly. “Even your stupid mom. And you’re especially an idiot for trying to figure this out on your own.” Achilles tilts his head to kiss Patroclus’ neck. He’s gentler than he had been for the past few weeks, nosing the spot under Patroclus’ ear with a satisfied hum. Patroclus holds his head in place with a hand on the back of his neck. “We’re in this together.” 

Achilles is bent over the armrest, halfway out of his seat as he buries his face in the crook of Patroclus’ shoulder. He holds him like Patroclus might drift away, and Patroclus thinks of how long he had been in love with this boy. If Achilles’ mother thought she could take him away, she had another thing coming. Patroclus would follow him to the ends of the earth if only to be with him for a moment longer.

His boyfriend gingerly takes his injured wrist in his hand. “Tell me who to kill,” Achilles says, his voice gentle despite the rage in his eyes.

“Your friends are very upset,” Patroclus replies simply. “And they’re also pretty shitty people.” 

Achilles’ gaze darkens, and Patroclus knows he’s set a hit out for his boyfriend’s teammates.

…

There’s still the concern that his mother is watching somehow. Patroclus thinks it’s a bit ridiculous- surely there was a reasonable explanation for how she found out? A teammate who didn’t know when to shut up, or one of the many pictures on Achilles' phone leaked? But Achilles is obviously still shaken, so Patroclus takes up his offer to go rest in Achilles’ dorm instead of his apartment. His roommate had left for the weekend, his boyfriend explains, and Patroclus feels a little better about not going home. He texts Bri the gist of what’s going on before letting Achilles steer him into his dorm building.

Achilles’ room is about as much of a mess as everything else in his life: his laundry hamper is tipped over and overflowing with clothes, there’s a line of empty energy drink cans lining the windowsill, and Patroclus can’t even fathom the last time his boyfriend actually saw his desk under all those papers. Achilles has to relocate a bag of chips and a stack of folded clothes from his bed so Patroclus can lay down.

Patroclus misses his bed at his apartment. Achilles’ is too narrow and too hard, one of the sad mattresses provided by the university. It only makes matters worse when Achilles climbs into bed with him and practically lays on top of Patroclus. There would be no asking him to move- Achilles has their legs tangled together instantly and his head on Patroclus’ chest, so Patroclus sighs and pulls his comforter over both of them.

He wakes a few hours later to his phone buzzing in his pocket. Achilles is still sound asleep, blond hair spread across Patroclus’ chest like a golden curtain. Patroclus manages to answer his phone and maneuver it to his ear without disturbing his boyfriend. “Hello?” he murmurs, other hand coming to rest on the small of Achilles’ back. His boyfriend sighs in his sleep.

“ _Pat_.” It’s Bri. Not like anyone else really called Patroclus besides her and Achilles. He wasn’t even sure his dad had him saved in his phone as a contact. “ _We gotta talk._ ”

Patroclus glances down at Achilles. “Right now? I’m sort of caught up in-”

“ _Yes, right now._ ” Patroclus looks up at the ceiling in exasperation. Why did he even bother asking? “ _I’m sending some stuff to your phone that you need to open._ ” Patroclus’ phone vibrates against his ear. He pulls it away and squints as the screen lights up. It’s two links: one to a Facebook post, the other to a YouTube video. 

“What’s this about?” he asks. He’d like an explanation before opening them.

“ _Ugh, can’t you just do what I tell you to do?_ ” Patroclus snorts at that. “ _You guys didn’t know how his mom found you out, right? This is how._ ” Patroclus’ eyes widen. “ _Honestly, I could have told you that though. You’re both incredibly dense. I expected more from you, Pat-_ ”

“I’ll call you back,” Patroclus interrupts. Bri starts to complain, but he’s already pressing the button to end the call. 

Achilles rouses from his sleep. “Who’s that?” he mumbles, tilting his head up to kiss Patroclus’ chin. His lips are clumsy and warm against Patroclus' skin. 

"Bri." He clicks the first link, his gut a bundle of nerves. Curse the school wifi for being so incredibly slow. 

"Mm…" Achilles sets his head back down. "Tell her I said hi." He's terribly cute when he's half-asleep. Patroclus wishes he could appreciate it more, but the link finally works and his attention is torn from his boyfriend to his phone. 

It's their university's Facebook page for the track and field team. Patroclus had never visited it before, so he isn't exactly sure what he's looking at. The most recent post is about the meet from that same day that Achilles had skipped, and below that a picture from one of the practices. Patroclus frowns and scrolls further down. 

His breath catches in his throat. 

Only a few more posts down is what looks to be a picture taken of the school newspaper. It's from a few weeks ago, but Patroclus doesn't need to look at the date to know that. On the front page is him. He's in Achilles' arms, his hands cradling Achilles' face and their lips pressed together. Below the photo reads _School Celebrity Celebrates Victory with a Kiss._

"Motherfucker," Patroclus breathes. It goes on to detail Achilles' streak of breaking records, but Patroclus' attention keeps coming back to the photograph. The post on Facebook proudly boasts that their Achilles had made the front page of the school's paper. Suddenly it all makes sense. 

Achilles frowns and scoots up Patroclus' body so he can rest their cheeks together. "What'd she do?" he rumbles. He blinks sleep from his eyes and follows Patroclus' gaze to his phone. Immediately, his eyes widen in horror. "What-" 

Patroclus doesn't have time to explain. He opens the other link Bri had sent him. It opens to a video of the award ceremony from the same day the photo was taken. There's a time stamp in the description to when Achilles accepts his medal for javelin throwing, and Patroclus clicks it. 

There's his Achilles, the widest grin on his face and a gold medal resting over his chest. He's so bright and beautiful that even now it makes Patroclus ache with how deeply he cares for him. " _I’d like to dedicate this victory to the man who continues to inspire me each and every day_.” What had been heart wrenchingly sweet before turns Patroclus' blood to ice. “ _My beloved, Patroclus._ "

Patroclus pauses the video. They both sit in silence for a few moments. 

"That's how she knows," Patroclus says quietly. 

" _Fuck_ me," Achilles whispers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which resolutions are reached.

“I think if my mom met you, she’d like you,” Achilles says thoughtfully. Patroclus’ card slips out of his hand onto the floor, and he darts to pick it up before Achilles or Bri can see it.

It’s a sweet thing to say, but Patroclus can’t help but doubt. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. He sets a different card down face-up. “Blue.”

“Literally _any_ other color, Pat,” Bri sighs. She starts to draw for a card she can play. Her frown deepens as her hand grows bigger and bigger. 

Patroclus lays on his stomach in his living room, so he can feel his heart race against the floor as if it were threatening to burst from his chest. Achilles sits beside him. He cranes his neck and tries to steal a look at his cards, but Patroclus holds them closer to his chest. Cheater. Achilles was terrible at games- he was the sorest loser, and he would boast about his wins as if he’d taken the gold in the Olympics. It was unfortunate for him that talent wasn’t required for Uno, just sheer luck.

“I’m sure she would,” Achilles insists. “Everyone does. How couldn’t they?” Patroclus flushes at that, turning his head to look away bashfully. Sometimes he thinks Achilles lives in a completely different world than he does. Patroclus’ professors didn’t even know him by name, his classmates always took his seat like he hadn't sat in the exact same place the entire semester. He was forgettable at best, but Achilles always acts like he should be held above everyone else.

Bri _aha_ ’s when she finally gets the right card. “She doesn’t sound like she’s very easily swayed,” Bri comments. "Even if Pat is the coolest guy she's ever met, she's gonna hate him." It hurts to hear, but it’s probably the truth. No matter how great Achilles thought Patroclus was, it couldn’t change the hatred that had already set in. 

Achilles flips the direction they’re playing so Bri goes again. “She might be in this case,” he argues. Everything Patroclus had ever heard about her suggests likewise.

Patroclus exchanges a look with Achilles. His boyfriend nods. Patroclus sets down a plus two, which Achilles adds onto with a plus four. “Okay, that is _so_ not fair,” Bri grumbles. “You guys can’t team up when there’s only three players.” She points at Achilles and narrows her eyes. “You were saving that for me, weren’t you?”

He shrugs helplessly. “Patroclus said he wouldn’t kiss me anymore if I played it against him.” 

“And you seriously believed that?” Patroclus snorts and covers his mouth with one hand. Bri draws six cards, exasperated. “I’m one plus four from banning you from playing this game, Golden Boy.” Patroclus chuckles, and Bri glares at him. “You too. Don’t think you’re safe from my wrath.” 

Patroclus smiles. He likes the simpler moments like this: spending time with the two people he cares for most. For a while, everything just made sense. 

But Achilles won’t let the subject go. “She doesn’t even know anything about you,” he continues. One hand trails along Patroclus’ back, fingertips light. It sends a shiver down his spine. “We could give it a chance.”

This is all pretty sudden. They’d spent the last few days tiptoeing around the subject, Achilles barely getting any sleep from the stress and Patroclus powerless to do much more than stand by and offer a shoulder to lean on. He shifts closer to Achilles and presses his side against his boyfriend’s thigh.

Achilles takes it as another chance to look at his cards, but Patroclus angles them away from him once more. 

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Bri asks for Patroclus. “A few days ago you were scared to even breathe in Pat’s direction lest she come down here and unleash her rage.” She says it nonchalantly enough, as if it doesn’t make Patroclus flinch and Achilles look away in shame. 

“I just- I don’t know,” Achilles mumbles. He sets down a card before tangling his fingers in Patroclus’ hair. Patroclus is growing suspicious. His boyfriend is being much too vague. It wasn't like him at all. As Achilles massages his scalp, he thinks hard.

“She’s already coming down here,” he reaches his conclusion, “isn’t she?” Bri glances over her hand in surprise. He’s silent, but Achilles gives the smallest nod in affirmation. He’d never been very good at being subtle about anything. Not with his crush on Patroclus, not with his jealousy and anger that made him lash out like a viper, and certainly not now when his tuition and, subsequently, his relationship with Patroclus was on the line.

“Next week,” Achilles says. “She wants to see me at my upcoming meet.” He looks tired, taking too long to stare at his cards before putting one down on the growing stack once it’s his turn again. 

Patroclus doesn’t want to play anymore, not when Achilles looks so sad. He sets his deck down and crosses his arms over Achilles’ thigh. “It’ll be alright,” he reassures him gently, resting his chin on one arm. Achilles looks unsure. Patroclus doesn’t entirely believe himself either, but he couldn’t make Achilles lose hope. He'd pretend for Achilles' sake. “Did she say anything else about it?”

Achilles sighs. “The usual: I could’ve done better a few weeks ago. And that she better not see you.” 

Bri throws her cards to the side, and they scatter across the floor. “What a _bitch_ ,” she hisses. 

Patroclus stays quiet. What is he supposed to say? He wasn’t some star athlete or beautiful girl that would make everyone jealous of Achilles’ life. It wasn’t like he was a terrible person, but he wasn’t anything to write home about either. If Achilles’ mom met him, she wouldn’t be impressed at all. 

“She’s blind,” Achilles agrees. His voice rises with his anger. “Patroclus is the best thing to ever happen to me, and she’s just mad she had no part in it.” He cups the back of Patroclus’ neck protectively. “But I’m not going to let her talk down to him, especially without even meeting him. She needs to give him a chance, because he isn’t going anywhere and neither am I.” Bri’s gaze softens. “If she doesn’t see what I see, then she’s just lying to herself. But I have to at least _try_ to show her.” 

Patroclus sits up so he can tuck himself against Achilles’ side and wrap his arms around him. He didn’t understand how he had gotten so lucky. Achilles presses a kiss to the top of his head, and Patroclus closes his eyes. His Achilles. It seems the years of longing, of wishing for more in life and feeling so empty finally paid off. No matter what happened, Patroclus planned on staying right here. 

“You know?” Bri starts quietly. It captures Patroclus’ and Achilles’ attention. “I underestimated you, Golden Boy.” She smiles at them both, and it’s the first time Patroclus has seen her look at Achilles so fondly. 

“Huh?” Achilles tilts his head. “How?” Always so terribly dense. Patroclus can’t help but smile. 

“There might be the tiniest possibility that _maybe_ , just maybe, you’re good enough for my best friend.” Bri leans back on one hand and looks at Achilles as if she’s seeing him for the first time. She doesn’t observe him as if he’s a problem she needs to solve, but rather a solution she was happy to accept. Patroclus feels as if he could cry tears of joy. 

Achilles frowns. “I wasn’t before?” 

Bri’s smile falls, replaced by her usual irritation. The moment was nice while it lasted.

…

Patroclus isn’t sure if he should be preparing some sort of speech or something. What could he possibly say to someone who already hated him? Would he see Achilles’ rage in his mom’s eyes when she glared at him? Would he see his father’s disappointment mirrored on her face? Patroclus isn’t sure how he was supposed to handle it. 

He sits on Achilles’ bed and tries hard to think, but it’s difficult when his boyfriend is on the other side of the door yelling into his phone. His mom had called twenty minutes before, and Achilles had given up speaking calmly to her about six seconds in. Patroclus sighs and flops back on his boyfriend’s bed. He can’t help but feel like this is all his fault.

The door opens, and Patroclus glances up. Achilles’ roommate shoves past him shouting and closes the door behind him, muffling Achilles’ voice once more. It had been nice for Achilles to room with one of his teammates at first, but he and Agamemnon didn’t exactly get on anymore. Not since Achilles broke his nose for his part in bullying Patroclus.

“Ah,” he says, giving Patroclus a tired once over, “it’s you.” Patroclus lifts his hand in greeting. Agamemnon rolls his eyes and takes his spot on his bed.

“ _You’re not listening to me!_ ” Achilles’ voice booms. Patroclus isn’t sure how he hasn’t gotten a noise complaint yet. “ _You’ve seen a single picture of him! That’s not the same as meeting him!_ ”

“Things are going well, I presume?” Agamemnon asks, unzipping his bag and pulling out his laptop. Patroclus despises the sarcasm, and he takes pleasure in glancing up and seeing his nose in a splint. Achilles could be very compelling when he wanted to. 

“Swimmingly,” Patroclus replies shortly. 

The other man only shakes his head. "Achilles has been neurotic lately," he continues. Agamemnon doesn't look up as he starts to type on his computer. "I assume it has to do with you."

Patroclus hesitates. It really was all because of him, wasn't it? He doesn't regret being with Achilles, but Patroclus can't help but wonder where he'd be now if he hadn't settled for Patroclus. Surely he'd have the prettiest girlfriend, and his friends wouldn't hate him. Achilles was handsome enough to turn heads- he could have anyone he wanted, yet he still chose Patroclus. 

"Hmm," he hums when Patroclus doesn't respond. "He should have gotten kicked off the team for how he came after us." Patroclus looks at him in surprise. Achilles hadn't mentioned when he'd gone and beat half his friends to make up for hurting him or how exactly it went, but he'd bandaged his boyfriend's bruised knuckles afterwards. They said more than enough. "I’ve never seen anyone look as angry as he did. Coach said we deserved it, though. Nice to know everyone falls under his spell." Agamemnon glances up for the first time. "Especially you." Patroclus stiffens. "But not me. Not the rest of the guys."

"Are you finished yet?" Patroclus asks. As much as he loved having this conversation, he was tired of receiving other people's inputs on his boyfriend and his relationship. Achilles' mother was enough- he didn't need his shitty friend's opinion.

Agamemnon’s lips curl into a smile. Patroclus knows he’d always appreciated his sarcasm. They used to get along the best in Achilles’ group of teammates, but Patroclus doesn’t exactly see them being friendly anymore all things considered. 

Patroclus realizes something is off when he doesn’t hear Achilles yelling. He swings his legs off the side of his boyfriend’s bed and walks over to the door. He’s about to open it, but Patroclus can hear Achilles talking quieter than before. It’s not right for him to do it, but Patroclus presses his ear against the wood grain of the door to listen closer. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Agamemnon shake his head in disbelief.

“ _I’d appreciate it if you at least pretend you’re going to give him a chance,_ ” Achilles says softly. “ _No, Mom, not for him. For my sake._ ” There’s a short pause where Patroclus can barely make out a woman’s voice on the other end of the line. “ _Because as long as he’ll have me, he isn’t going anywhere. Even if you stop paying, I’ll take out loans, I’ll get a job, beg for money- I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’d rather live in debt with the person I love than live comfortably so I can please you._ ” His mother raises her voice, but Achilles must hang up before she can go on because it’s suddenly silent outside the door. The handle begins to turn, and Patroclus rushes to jump back into Achilles’ bed.

His boyfriend looks exhausted when he comes back into his room. Achilles takes a few steps before collapsing onto his bed, curling up in Patroclus’ arms. He presses a kiss to his head of blond curls, and Achilles sighs in response.

“Your boyfriend was eavesdropping,” Agamemnon says. 

“Dude, really?” Patroclus shoots him a glare, but Agamemnon doesn’t look his way. 

Achilles doesn’t seem to care. He shrugs and looks up at Patroclus. “There was nothing for me to hide.” Patroclus holds him with an arm around his waist and brings his other hand up to cradle his face. Achilles smiles a little, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s as you and Bri said: she’s not going to listen.” He looks so sad, so defeated. Patroclus brushes his thumb across Achilles’ cheek. 

“Can you guys do this gay shit somewhere else?” Agamemnon interrupts. “I’m trying to do my homework.” 

“Go to the library then, Aggie,” Achilles shoots back. He glares at Agamemnon. If looks could kill.

“Do _not_ call me that.” Agamemnon slams his laptop shut. “I pay for this room too, you know.”

Achilles sits up very suddenly. He crosses the room in two strides to stand in front of his roommate’s bed. “I can break more than just your nose, if you’d like,” he says, voice very quiet. His knuckles are still bruised from the other day, but Patroclus doesn’t doubt for a moment that Achilles would be able to punch just as hard if he wanted to. “You have ten fingers. A jaw. Two arms.”

“ _Achilles,_ ” Patroclus warns. He appreciates how protective Achilles is, but not when it was crossing a line. Patroclus didn’t want to witness someone getting hurt for his honor or whatever. 

Agamemnon- Aggie? Really?- doesn’t seem to want any part of this, either. He rises from his bed and shoves his computer back into his backpack. “I’m going to the library,” he says. As if he really had any say in the matter. “Just don’t fuck in here while I’m gone.” He puts his shoes back on and walks begrudgingly to the door. 

“No promises!” Achilles calls after him. It’s one final blow, making Agamemnon grimace as he slams the door shut behind him. It rattles the thin walls of the dorm room, and one of Achilles’ pictures falls down from where it had hung before.

He’s tamer with his roommate gone. Achilles buries himself in Patroclus’ arms, halfway off the bed as he sinks into his boyfriend. Patroclus holds him tight. 

“He seems like a joy to live with,” Patroclus comments. Achilles snorts.

“Yeah, for sure.” He nuzzles Patroclus’ cheek and presses a kiss. “Even better when he comes back wasted.”

Patroclus makes room for Achilles, but he isn’t exactly sure why. He could sit on the far corner of the bed and Achilles would still crawl on top of him like he was some sort of cat. As expected, Achilles lays on his side with his head in Patroclus’ lap. “How do you deal with no privacy?” Patroclus can’t help but ask. He’d had a single room his first year in university, so he’d never had to deal with an obnoxious roommate. 

Achilles turns his head and gives Patroclus a sly smile. “Oh, like how do I jack off?” 

Heat rises to Patroclus’ face. “That… isn’t exactly what I-”

“Sure it was.” He rolls onto his back so he can look up at Patroclus. “Quietly.” Achilles winks, and Patroclus is suddenly very lightheaded. He really did not need to have that thought in his head right now. It wasn’t fair that Achilles could just say whatever he wants and get away with it, like it doesn’t _destroy_ Patroclus from the inside out. “But I mean, we _could_ fuck just to spite him-”

“I am not having sex with you if there is even the slightest possibility he can walk in on us,” Patroclus interrupts in a rush. He can feel his face burn with discomfort all the way up to his ears, and Achilles’ grin only makes the room feel that much hotter. He’d had more than enough close calls in his sex life with Achilles to last a lifetime. Patroclus would be fine sitting this one out. 

Achilles doesn’t tease him any further. He grips Patroclus’ shirt tight and turns his face so it’s pressed into his boyfriend’s stomach. They still needed to talk about his conversation with his mom. It hung over their heads like a boulder waiting to fall and crush them. 

But Patroclus is patient. He knows what it’s like to so desperately want someone’s approval and have no way of ever being able to get it. Gently, he cards his fingers through Achilles’ hair. He could talk whenever he wanted to, and Patroclus would gladly listen. After all Achilles has done to change his life, it was the least Patroclus could do. 

Eventually Achilles loosens his hold on Patroclus’ shirt. “I don’t understand how she won’t even try to open her mind, even a little bit.” He wraps an arm around Patroclus’ waist, but he keeps his face hidden. “I thought if I just talked to her, she might listen, but…”

Patroclus’ heart aches terribly. Achilles didn’t have many people in his life that would blow him off like this. He wanted to be praised, revered. Not having his mom’s approval must be devastating for him. “Is she still threatening to stop paying?” Patroclus asks quietly. Achilles nods. 

“Which is fine and all. I don’t want her money if she’s going to berate me for loving you.” Achilles sighs. “I just don’t want her to be disappointed in me. I’ve never been good enough, but I know she would think I could improve if I just ran long enough or practiced my throws enough times. She acts like being with you is going to keep me from being successful.” It’s painful to hear. Patroclus can’t help but flinch at the all too familiar words. Achilles peeks up from his shirt to look at Patroclus. “Surely you don’t believe that too?”

But... Achilles had skipped practice because of Patroclus. He gave up getting any closer to his friends, as idiotic as they were, to spend more time with him. He got into a fight and almost got kicked off his team for Patroclus. “Do I really make you a better person, though?” Patroclus wonders aloud.

Immediately, Achilles sits up and takes his face in his hands. Patroclus feels trapped between his palms, cheeks squished uncomfortably “Don’t you ever ask that again,” he says very seriously. He kisses Patroclus sweetly. There’s none of his usual heat, only gentle comfort. “It’s as if I wasn’t living before I met you,” Achilles breathes against Patroclus’ lips. “Like the sun didn’t have any warmth.”

Patroclus smiles a little. “I’m supposed to be comforting you,” he points out softly, tangling their fingers together. 

“We’re a team.” Achilles brushes their noses together. “No me or you, just us, so it’s alright.” His green eyes glitter with an emotion Patroclus has come to learn is reserved just for him: _love_.

He groans and hides his face in Achilles’ shoulder. “I thought I told you to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Saying sappy shit that you _know_ is going to kill me.” Achilles snickers at that. Patroclus doesn’t dare move lest he see the adoration on Achilles’ face and implode. 

Achilles rests his chin on the top of Patroclus’ head. “I’m still forcing her to meet you,” he says. 

Patroclus tenses. “You think that’s a good idea?” He can’t imagine anything more terrifying than being face to face with the one person in life Achilles truly feared. If Achilles couldn’t sway his mother, how was Patroclus supposed to? Besides, she didn't exactly seem like the type of person capable of being forced to do anything. 

But Achilles already has his mind made up, and not even Patroclus can get to him now. "You're the most important person to me," he explains, "so she's going to get to know you whether she likes it or not. I don't plan on letting you go, so she's just going to have to get used to you."

_He's not letting me go._ Patroclus had heard Achilles say something similar to his mother, but it's so much more meaningful with his arms around Patroclus and his lips moving to press against Patroclus' forehead. These words weren't just the ramblings of a rebellious kid to convince his mom he was telling the truth: Achilles meant them. All at once, it's like his worst fears have subsided. The terror that Achilles might leave him fades away to a dull thought in the back of his mind.

Patroclus tilts his head up so their lips meet once more. Achilles is surprised at first, but he leans into Patroclus as soon as he realizes he's being kissed. "We'll be okay no matter what," Patroclus says softly. His boyfriend doesn't respond, only closes the short gap once more to kiss him. Achilles' actions speak for him. 

… 

Patroclus has never been very good at keeping his balance. He swears that as he grew, his legs were not proportional to the rest of his body. They were too long, too awkward. It made puberty that much more fun. Jeans were always too short, and he'd tripped enough times in high school to come to expect it as a daily occurence. 

So he clings onto Achilles for dear life as his boyfriend shows him how to get onto his skateboard, fingers digging into Achilles' biceps. "I have you," he's saying, but Patroclus is too focused on the board wobbling underneath him to hear. "If you think you're gonna fall, just go forward and I'll catch you."

It takes effort and some coaxing from Achilles, but eventually Patroclus manages to get both feet planted firmly on the skateboard. 

"Wow," Bri comments. She watches with open amusement as she walks her bike beside them. "I never thought I'd see the day where you had to do something requiring any kind of coordination."

" _Ha ha._ " Patroclus jolts as he feels himself begin to lean forward, and Achilles is there in an instant pressing their chests together so he can't go anywhere. 

"We'll go nice and slow." He moves to hold both of Patroclus' hands in his own, and Patroclus' heart jumps as his safety net backs away. "Just focus on staying up there first." Achilles makes it sound so easy. Patroclus had watched him skateboard enough times to know it came as natural as everything else in his life. He'd almost been confident he could catch on with how simple Achilles made it look… almost. 

It's the day before his mom is supposed to get into town, and Achilles wanted to spend what little time he had left in peace with Patroclus. He swung by the student union building to walk Patroclus to his car after his last tutoring session. Patroclus isn't quite sure how it turned into him being forced up onto a skateboard. But Achilles had asked so sadly, and he'd even bought Patroclus knee pads so he could learn. _Knee pads._ How could Patroclus say no? 

Well, now he wishes he'd said no. Bri had invited herself to join them, and she took that as an opportunity to torment Patroclus. She shoves him in the side so he goes forward on the skateboard. It's slow and the brick sidewalk keeps the board from going too far, but it still makes Patroclus scramble to hold onto Achilles' shoulder as the ground lurches underneath him. 

"Don't do that!" he snaps at his best friend. Bri only smiles and shrugs. 

"I thought I'd give you some help."

"I don't need any! You’re just going to knock me over."

"Is this any better?" Achilles wraps an arm around Patroclus' waist. It gives him something to lean on, one hand gripping Achilles' shoulder firmly and the other still in his boyfriend's grasp. Patroclus nods gratefully. "Okay, we're gonna try to push off now."

The sun is setting and painting the sky brilliant hues of reds and oranges. At this rate, Patroclus is certain it'll be midnight by the time they get to his car. He timidly balances on one foot to propel himself forward with the other. He manages, but only because he leans all his weight into Achilles. The board goes just a few inches, but nonetheless Achilles praises Patroclus until he feels his cheeks warm. 

"What time does her plane land tomorrow morning?" Bri asks, glancing at Achilles. She had been informed of their plan to introduce Patroclus to Achilles' mom, and she had been worried from the start. When they'd had a moment alone, Bri had pulled Patroclus aside and made sure he was okay with it all. She knew about his dad, so he appreciated that she checked in on him. 

"Eight." Achilles puts a hand on Patroclus' back to steady him. "My meet is at ten." 

"Are you meeting her at your dorm or the airport?" 

"Neither." Patroclus feels his knees start to give. Achilles stands still as he's used as a wall once more for Patroclus until he's stable again. "I'll see her right before the competition," Achilles finishes. 

Bri frowns at him. "Is that seriously a good plan? Won't she be pissed?" 

Patroclus remembers saying something along similar lines: _You should pick her up from the airport._ But Achilles refused. He wanted to spend the night with Patroclus. Achilles said he'd had no desire to wake up early and spend more time with her than needed, and he certainly wasn't giving her Patroclus' address to meet him. She'd be livid if she found out how often Achilles stayed over. Something about Patroclus tainting him? He hadn’t exactly cared to listen to Achilles' sour explanation of his mother's way of thinking and tuned out about halfway through. 

"She's pissed about lots of things," Achilles replies shortly. "Just add it to the list." 

“You don’t _need_ to add anything else to the list,” Patroclus argues. “Eventually she’s going to reach a breaking point.” While he agrees that Achilles has every right to be upset with his mom, he doesn’t exactly think he should invite any more conflict. It would just affirm her point that being with Patroclus had a bad influence on him. 

Achilles doesn’t say anything, but anger flashes in his eyes. He hated being held back, especially when he was being told he was wrong. In Achilles’ mind, having his beliefs invalidated was an open invitation to fight until he either made his point or his opponent was so fed up they walked away from the conversation. “I’ve already told her that’s the plan, so it’s settled.” There’s no room for argument, so Patroclus lets it go. They were already stressed enough- they didn’t need to start fighting on top of it all. 

Even when he's upset, Achilles is gentle with Patroclus. He leads him slowly on his board like he's teaching a toddler to walk for the first time. The hand on Patroclus' back is protective, fingers curled in the dip of his spine, and Achilles glances at him every few seconds to make sure he's still alright. 

They reach the intersection where Bri has to part ways with them. She swings a leg over the seat of her bike and eyes Patroclus carefully. "I can come tomorrow too, if you need me to." Patroclus appreciates the gesture, but he specifically remembers she works in her lab that weekend. No matter how nervous he might be, Patroclus wasn't about to put her job at risk for his own comfort. He could handle himself.

"It'll be alright," he reassures her. Truthfully, he’s really fucking anxious, but Patroclus hopes the face he puts on suggests otherwise. Bri doesn’t look very convinced.

“Text me how it goes,” she says. Bri pushes off the ground with one foot and coasts across the street, hair whipping behind her. She never ceases to amaze Patroclus with how graceful she makes everything seem. Bri looks like the main character in a movie when she’s riding her bike. Patroclus looks like he learned how to ride a bike two hours ago.

Now that she’s gone, all Patroclus wants to do is go home and rest. Achilles helps him off his skateboard, picking Patroclus up and setting him back onto the sweet, sweet solid ground. If Patroclus wasn’t so stressed out, he might’ve even swooned with how strong his boyfriend is.

Achilles picks up his board and tucks it under one arm. With his free hand, he reaches out for Patroclus and tangles their fingers together. “Told you I’d always catch you,” he says with a small smile. It’s so disgustingly cute. Patroclus can’t help but grin back, bumping his hip against Achilles’ and earning a laugh from his boyfriend. He still thinks Achilles would be a great English major with how disgustingly sappy he could be, which always makes Achilles remind him the only reason he even passed his composition classes was because he had paid people online to write his essays.

Lucky for Patroclus, his car had _not_ been towed after leaving it in staff parking for a day. He and Achilles had managed to recover it just in time to find one of the parking attendants putting a boot on the tire. Achilles only had to flash a smile and give some half-assed lie and they were on their way. Patroclus hates the attention Achilles always gets for his looks, but he would begrudgingly admit his charm did get him out of a few sticky situations.

Patroclus’ car sticks out in the parking lot, and not for any good reasons. It’s a piece of shit, but he’d saved up for all on his own so it was _his_ piece of shit. Petunia, as Patroclus had lovingly dubbed it after Achilles insisted his car needed a name (his pickup truck was Pyrrha, and Achilles said their cars would make a great couple... Patroclus worried for him). She was a 1980 Corolla: a terrible shade of green with leather seats cracked from the sun and one of the windows taped over with duct tape from when a baseball smashed it in. Only Patroclus could drive it because it was a stick shift, and he turned down all of Achilles’ pleas to teach him to use it. Patroclus was not about to buy another Petunia when Achilles rolled his down a hill and crashed into a tree.

Achilles makes a face when he sees the familiar snot green. Not Petunia’s biggest fan. He didn’t like the lack of air conditioning or how the car rocks and creaks dangerously when he tries to climb into Patroclus’ lap and grind against him. Patroclus hadn’t exactly had his future boyfriend in mind when he picked her out, he had apologized before. Achilles insisted it wasn’t a good enough excuse.

He rushes ahead of Patroclus and opens the driver’s side door for him. Patroclus bends down to press a kiss to his lips before climbing in. He’d never admit it, but he likes how Achilles treats him as if he’s royalty. It’s nice being pampered. Patroclus thinks he could get used to it. 

Petunia starts with her normal shudder. Achilles always stares at the dashboard in horror as if he expects her to explode. As if his stupid truck was any better.

Patroclus’ hand hovers over the stick shift, but slowly he lets it slide onto Achilles’ thigh. His chest is tight with nerves, and Patroclus feels like any second he’ll forget how to breathe. “We’re still okay if she doesn’t like me, right?” he asks quietly. Achilles rests his hand on top of Patroclus’.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says firmly. “If she tries anything, we’re faking our deaths and running to the Swiss Alps.” Patroclus rolls his eyes. “We’ll live the rest of our days as humble sheep herders… maybe get a few dogs. You like dogs, right?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” When he turns to face him, Patroclus is captivated by the seriousness in his boyfriend’s eyes. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Achilles continues. “I’m staying with you for as long as you’ll have me.” 

_Forever, then._ Patroclus is surprised at how certain he is. “I want you for as long as I can have you,” Patroclus says. 

Achilles leans forward so their foreheads bump together. “Then it’s settled.” He squeezes Patroclus’ hand. “Make her realize how fucking awesome you are, or we run away and change our names.” He flashes a grin. “I call my fake name being Gregor Lufenburger. We can make yours up later.” Patroclus snorts and shoves his shoulder, and Achilles breaks into a fit of laughter. 

_I’m never letting you go._ Patroclus kisses him until he’s trying to climb into his seat again.

…

Patroclus wakes up to a cold nose pressed against his own and the smell of his own shampoo.

“Five more minutes,” he groans, turning his face back into his pillow. He hears Achilles chuckle and feels the bed dip under his weight. 

“You said that half an hour ago.” Achilles hugs Patroclus tight, spooning his back. His body is like a heater, warming Patroclus to the perfect temperature that blankets just couldn’t do by themselves. If he’s trying to get Patroclus to get up, he’s making it terribly difficult. 

Patroclus feels himself fading back to sleep already. “I don’t remember, so it didn’t happen,” he murmurs, one hand coming to rest on top of Achilles’ bicep. What did they even have to do today that was so important anyways? Whatever it is, Patroclus can’t imagine it needs their immediate attention.

Achilles’ lips press against the back of his neck. Patroclus sighs contently, positively melting under his boyfriend’s touch. He wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life right here. It’s a sacrifice Patroclus is willing to make. 

“My mom’s plane landed an hour ago.”

Patroclus’ eyes fly open in an instant. “Your mom,” he echoes. 

“Mhm.” Achilles starts to slide a hand under Patroclus’ shirt, but Patroclus is already wrangling himself out of his arms and sitting up.

“Why would you let me sleep in?” he demands, throwing the blankets off of him and consequently covering Achilles with them. His boyfriend grunts and pulls the covers off his face, but Patroclus is too busy to apologize. He grabs the outfit he’d picked out the day before- a nice sweater and jeans, not terribly formal but also not too casual for meeting the love of his life’s super judgemental parent- and runs to the bathroom. 

“You have time!” Achilles calls after him. His idea of ‘having time’ was very different from Patroclus, though. He checks his phone and goes bug-eyed. Patroclus decides he’s going to kill Achilles if his mom didn’t murder him first. 

…

Everything Patroclus could possibly need to know is written front and back on two notecards stapled to each other. He tries to absorb as much information as he can while Achilles drives to his meet. _Mom: Thetis, very big family (she hates all of them), runs a successful yacht club (if she starts talking about yachts, just smile and nod- if she asks your opinion on yachts, change the subject politely), strained marriage w/dad (seriously, don't talk about him if at all possible)._ The more Patroclus reads, the less confident he feels in his abilities. 

"Everything okay?" Achilles asks. He has his hand on Patroclus' thigh as he drives and squeezes it comfortingly. Patroclus looks at how long his fingers are and feels lightheaded. He knows there's bruises hidden underneath his jeans from where Achilles liked to grip him in the bedroom. His mind drifts to the night before: Achilles underneath him, Achilles gasping his name- 

_No! Focus, Pat, focus. Impress the mother._ "Everything's fine," he manages hoarsely. Achilles shoots him a concerned look, and Patroclus gestures for him to turn his attention back to the road in front of him.

News of Achilles’ return after being absent the past two weeks seems to have spread like wildfire. The parking lot outside the track is full by the time Achilles pulls in with his pickup truck. Patroclus cranes his neck and looks around. The nearest spot is a good couple hundred yards from the entrance to the field- and it's already being taken. Damn. "Why don't I just drop you off here and come meet you in a few?" Achilles suggests, pulling up to the loading zone by the front. 

"I can just walk with you," Patroclus argues. It wasn't like his feet were going to fall off if he had to walk a mile to Achilles' meet. 

But Achilles shakes his head. "Seriously, I'll only be a few minutes. I'll jog up here. Think of it as my warm up." 

Patroclus narrows his eyes. "Are you saying I'd slow you down?" 

"No, not at all!" Achilles parks and turns to Patroclus. "I'm just… you know, a sprinter? Won every event I've been in for the past semester and a half?" 

"Oh, _fuck_ you, man." Patroclus elbows his boyfriend hard in the ribs with a laugh. Anyone else might be annoyed, but he'd grown used to Achilles' thoughtless comments about being faster, stronger than Patroclus. It was never out of malice- Achilles just states the obvious. 

Patroclus goes to open his door, but Achilles pulls him in by the front of his sweater and kisses him. It's chaste, just long enough for Patroclus to taste the toothpaste on Achilles' breath. "It'll be alright," his boyfriend reassures him gently. He nuzzles his cheek with his nose. Patroclus closes his eyes, and for a moment everything seems like it will turn out okay. "Just wait for me and we'll do this together."

"See you soon." Patroclus presses one last kiss to his forehead before climbing out of the truck. He barely has enough time to wave before Achilles is speeding off to find somewhere to park. 

There's a line of people waiting to buy tickets to get in. Achilles had gifted Patroclus a season's pass for their one month anniversary, so all he has to do is mull around awkwardly for an unknown amount of time while people push past him and give him strange looks for standing in the middle of the sidewalk. His wrist aches in its brace, and Patroclus holds his arm to his chest protectively. 

The only person who isn't in line is a woman standing off to the side near Patroclus. Her hair is dark and tumbles down her back like an oil spill, and between her pale, bony fingers is a lit cigarette. Its smoke billows towards Patroclus. He waves his good hand by his face and coughs, recoiling at the smell. 

When he looks up again, she's turned toward him. Patroclus knows she's glaring at him even though her eyes are shaded by a pair of big sunglasses pushed up her nose. He glances away quickly and tugs at the sleeves of his sweater. Out of the corner of his eye, Patroclus can see her still watching him closely. 

"Excited for the meet today?" he asks weakly. Anything to keep from standing in silence next to a total stranger. Patroclus couldn't exactly go anywhere or Achilles might not be able to find him. 

The woman flicks ash from her cigarette in his direction. "Elated." Her voice is flat and devoid of any emotion. "You?" Patroclus has never been so sure that somebody didn't care about his opinion in his life. 

Still, he had been raised to be polite. "Excited," Patroclus says. "My boyfriend is competing."

"Ah." 

"He's pretty good."

"Hm."

Patroclus bristles at her lack of care, as if she can't even be bothered to carry on this conversation. He takes out his phone and glances at the screen. _b there in 5!_ Achilles had promised only a minute before. In the meantime, Patroclus would like to curl in on himself and die. Why had he agreed to this? Oh, right, because Achilles was a dick. 

"You seem nervous," the woman comments absently. Patroclus looks at her in surprise, but her gaze seems to be set straight forward. "If your friend is so good, there's no need to be worried." _Friend._ Patroclus frowns. 

"Boyfriend," he corrects. "And I'm not worried about him. It's his mom." 

Her eyebrows raise. "His mom?" 

"Yeah." Patroclus breathes out a sigh. "It's my first time meeting her and she already hates me." He's nervous all over again thinking about it. Where's his boyfriend? Achilles would put an arm around him and keep him safe from his own nerves. 

"She must have a reason." She inhales another drag from her cigarette. "Mothers have good intuition."

Patroclus balls his hand into a fist. "Well, she doesn't." He doesn't know why he cares so much about this woman's opinion. Maybe it's just that instinct to protect his relationship with Achilles, or it could just be his pride is already hurt enough that he can't stand one more person trying to tear him down. "All she's ever done is make life harder for him. She has this whole stupid life planned out for him, but she doesn't even bother asking if he wants it. It's as if she thinks if she threatens him enough, she can keep controlling him even though he's in school."

The woman is silent, but she straightens her back as he speaks. At full height, she's a few inches taller than Patroclus. It's intimidating, but he doesn't back down. 

"I don't fit into the shitty plan, so she automatically hates me." Patroclus gestures with his good arm. "But I know him, and I know what's good for him. _We're_ good, no matter what she thinks. I'm staying with him for as long as I can, even if she hates my guts." 

Patroclus' phone buzzes at the same time he hears footsteps from behind him. He turns, and Achilles holds one hand up in greeting. "Told you I wouldn't be long-" His gaze flits past his boyfriend, and Achilles' mouth stays open. "Oh." He drops his hand and finds Patroclus'. Achilles tangles their fingers together tightly. "Hey, Mom."

"Mom…" Patroclus isn't sure he's ever felt so cold in his life. His blood turns to ice in an instant, and he's sure his palm sweats against Achilles'. He'd been telling off his _mom_? Way to make a super awesome first impression, Pat. She was sure to adore him now. 

"Yeah." Achilles stares up at his mother. All his joy from earlier is gone, lips drawn in a thin line. "Mom, this is Patroclus."

She lowers her sunglasses, and Patroclus' breath catches in his throat. Her eyes are so dark that he isn't sure where her pupils end and her irises begin. "I've already had the pleasure of meeting him," she says coolly. Patroclus has to physically keep himself from shrinking behind Achilles. His boyfriend looks at him worriedly, and Patroclus squeezes his hand to reassure him. There was no need to tell him he'd royally fucked up. Not right now, at least. 

"Miss-" Patroclus starts. 

"It's Thetis." In one fluid movement, she takes off her glasses and sets them on top of her head. Now that Patroclus can actually see her face, he feels like an idiot for not seeing the resemblance sooner. Her gaze has the same fierceness Achilles' always possesses, and the shape of their lips is almost identical. 

Achilles puts a hand on the small of Pat's back and gives him a push. Ah, right. Be polite even though you've already thrown away any chance of being friendly. He holds out his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Thetis gives his hand a long look. She drops her cigarette to the ground in front of Patroclus and puts it out with the toe of her boot. "There's no need for formalities," she says after a moment. Patroclus drops his hand back to his side. "Although, my son's… friend seems to know more than I do. Perhaps I should just take your lead."

Patroclus feels Achilles' gaze bore into the side of his head, silently demanding answers. "Boyfriend," Patroclus corrects weakly. 

… 

Since the seating around the field is packed, Patroclus is forced to sit beside Thetis. Achilles is on his other side, talking across him to his mom. Patroclus didn't know why they didn't just switch seats. Maybe he was hoping if they sat with each other, they'd be forced to get along. That, or he was using Patroclus as a shield against Thetis. 

"Patroclus is a pre-med major," Achilles is explaining. He has an arm around Patroclus' shoulders and waves his other hand as he speaks. Patroclus has never felt so uncomfortable touching his boyfriend, his skin burning where Achilles makes contact with him. "He's super smart. His GPA is basically a 4.0. I met him through the tutoring program here-" 

"So he abused his job position by fraternizing with his pupil," Thetis finishes, not looking at Patroclus. He can't help but scoff in disbelief. Fraternizing? Who even says fraternizing? Her hands are folded neatly in her lap. "Misusing his time on the clock. He should be fired for that."

" _No_ , I made a move on him first." Achilles leans in closer so he can glare at his mom. "When we were hanging out outside of tutoring." Thetis glances at Patroclus, hatred in her eyes. 

"I don't understand why you never went with any of the suitors I picked for you," she continues as if Patroclus isn't even there. His stomach turns at the thought of Achilles with anyone but him. "All from very well-known families. You'd be able to live comfortably and have a successful career." Thetis gives Patroclus a once over. She wrinkles her nose like he's a scar on her son. " _This_ was not accounted for."

" _This_ is the guy I'm in love with." Achilles' voice raises with anger, but he's gentle when he puts a hand on the back of Patroclus' neck. "And you're going to get to know him because he's staying, whether or not you like it." His fingertips are warm against Patroclus' skin. 

"Have you met his family yet?" she asks pointedly. 

"His dad is about as bad as you," Achilles answers. 

"And his mother?" Achilles is quiet, and Patroclus can only look down at his lap. He picks at a loose string on his wrist brace. It was never a great subject. Achilles rubs his back comfortingly. "I already know about her," Thetis goes on. "He'll be a stain on your reputation."

"Mother-" 

_First call for the men's four by eight hundred relay,_ plays over the loudspeakers. Patroclus glances down at the field to see a familiar huddle of purple jerseys at the edge of the track. He hopes Achilles' teammates aren't still too angry with him, for Achilles' sake more than anything. His boyfriend didn't need to get suspended for beating his friends half to death. 

"That's me," Achilles says flatly. He gives his mother a look. "Please just be civil."

Thetis only turns her head and narrows her eyes at him. Achilles sighs in response. 

"Go be amazing," Patroclus murmurs. He takes Achilles by the back of his neck and presses a short kiss to his lips. His hair stands on end as he feels Thetis watching them, but Patroclus wasn't about to break tradition just because she was pissed off. He was Achilles' good luck charm, after all. Patroclus likes to think he plays a small role in Achilles being a winner, however silly the thought may be. 

Achilles brushes their noses together as he parts from Patroclus' lips. "I'll win just for you," he promises so softly it's only for the two of them. He touches Patroclus' face gently with one hand, fingers grazing his cheek longingly before Achilles starts to make his way to the track. 

"Don't slack off," Thetis calls from behind him. "Watch your form." Patroclus watches Achilles' shoulders stiffen, but he doesn't say anything as he runs down the stairs of the stadium seating. 

The buzz of people talking doesn't do much to calm Patroclus' nerves. Even though the seats are packed, he feels as if the world is only him and Thetis. She doesn't look at him even after Achilles is gone, gaze fixed on her son as he joins his teammates. They barely acknowledge him when he joins their circle. 

_Is it Patroclus' fault?_ He can't help but feel partially guilty for taking Achilles' focus away from what he had a passion for. Sure, his teammates were a bunch of assholes, but they still depended on him. It was their relationship that had lost their school the chance to participate in nationals this year. Their season could have gone on longer, but now they only had a few more meets before track retired for the year. 

"He'll come to his senses eventually," Thetis says. Patroclus turns to her. She doesn't take her eyes off Achilles for a moment- probably scrutinizing his every move. "This is all just a minor setback."

"A minor setback," Patroclus echoes. "I've been dating your son for four months."

Thetis narrows her eyes to slits. "That's the longest commitment he's had to anything besides running. Any day now." 

Patroclus is astounded by how deeply in denial one person could possibly be. Even Patroclus, who had to fight every day for each scrap of self confidence he managed to gain after years of neglect, was able to see how much he meant to Achilles. Sure, there were times he would still fear for the future, but one look at the way Achilles smiles at him was always enough to put his mind at ease. 

She takes his silence as an invitation to continue. "I already have a list of women that would be interested in pursuing a relationship with Achilles." Thetis scoffs, shaking her head. "A few men, as well, if he is seriously considering going down that path."

The way she talks about her son sets Patroclus on edge, as if he were a prize that needed to be won. "Achilles is a free spirit," Patroclus says. He thinks of his golden boy, never tied down and always convinced he's right. Not even Patroclus could change his mind if he was dead set on his ways. 

"A free spirit." Thetis rolls her eyes. "You speak about him like he's a horse that can't be tamed, not a college student who doesn't know how to wash his own clothes."

"He's not going to want to be with someone you picked out for him." Patroclus isn't so sure why he's so certain he's right. No matter how dearly he loves Achilles, he could never possibly know what's going on inside that head of his. Achilles kept his fears close to his heart until they threatened to shatter him whole. It made Patroclus ache to know he could be struggling in silence, but all he can do is continue to stand by Achilles' side. 

"This is all just a phase in his life." Thetis leans forward in her seat as the last call for men's relay plays over the speakers. "Achilles will realize he needs to marry someone with status, not a sad boy with a tragic family to drag his name through the mud."

A phase? 

Patroclus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before he can snap something in response he will surely regret. Picture something happy. Nice thoughts. Puppies, rainbows, boyfriends. 

He thinks back to the night before, when Patroclus laid beside Achilles in bed catching his breath after they'd spent the evening retracing the lines of each other's bodies. Patroclus had felt weariness beginning to tug at his bones and threaten to pull him under into a comfortable sleep. All that kept him awake was Achilles: his hands cupping Patroclus' face tenderly as if he were made of glass, fingertips gentle as they glided along the curve of his cheek. 

" _You're everything good in this lifetime,_ " Achilles had murmured. His thumb brushed against the mole over Patroclus' lip. " _And every other one, too. I'd find you in any universe, Pat. I could never possibly be whole without you._ " 

Patroclus had been so tired he couldn't do much more than bump his forehead against Achilles' lips. " _Sap,_ " he'd managed sleepily. Achilles chuckled and kissed the top of his head. His arms came to wrap around Patroclus tightly, and Patroclus gladly gravitated towards the warmth of his boyfriend's body. 

" _It's like I started to live the moment I met you,_ " Achilles continued. " _Like I'd been holding my breath all these years, and I can finally let go._ "

No, it couldn't possibly be just a passing college romance. Patroclus had dated in the past and never felt like this before. It was as if he'd been missing a piece of himself before and the puzzle was finally finished. Patroclus had managed fine on his own, sure, but he felt so much more complete going day by day with Achilles by his side. 

"He doesn't need me to lift his name," Patroclus says, startling himself. Thetis' gaze flits to him for only a moment. "Achilles doesn't need anyone to help him. He's perfectly capable on his own."

"Then why-" 

"But what he does need is someone to keep him from forgetting who he is." Patroclus laces his fingers together and thinks of Achilles' hand in his, calloused and strong. "He's full of himself and self-destructive, no thanks to you." Having an overbearing mother who insisted Achilles was perfect, that he was a prodigy and a god among men, had done a number on him mentally. In the privacy of Patroclus' home, he'd see Achilles' true personality that he'd hidden away from the world. But years of taunting and constant criticism meant he was still a menace to everyone else. 

"He has an understanding of how the world should accommodate him," Thetis says as if it would make everything clear. It didn't. "Achilles was born special. He needs someone on the same level as him."

"But he _doesn't._ " The sound of the pistol firing isn't enough to draw Thetis away from glaring at Patroclus with unbridled hatred. Patroclus doesn't have to look to know Ajax has already taken off. Or to know Achilles is staring up at him and his mom from where he waits on the track. "More than anything, Achilles wants to be cared for, and he wants someone he can take care of too. He wants someone he can see as his equal, not a rival or someone he has to impress."

"And… what? You think that's you?" 

"I _know_ it is." Patroclus thinks of the first time they kissed, when Achilles had melted against him like he'd waited his entire life to allow himself to be so vulnerable. He holds up his hand and counts off on his fingers. "With you and his dad, he has to find new ways to impress you guys or risk losing your respect." Two fingers. "With his friends, they only care that he wins for the team so they don't have to put in any work themselves." Three. "With strangers, Achilles has to keep up the facade or else risk everything come crashing down. Sort of like it did with you." 

The baton is passed off to the next teammate. "If you're so knowledgeable on my son," Thetis says, voice dangerously low, "then do tell me what he is. Enlighten me."

Patroclus doesn't have to think. He turns to find Achilles on the track: blond hair braided down his back, hands on his hips while he waits. The sunlight catches on the back of his head and illuminates his face like a halo. Just one look at him sends Patroclus' mind reeling with the affection that threatens to spill from his heart. "Love," Patroclus replies quietly. "He's love."

"Excuse me?" Thetis laughs harshly. "This is real life, not whatever fairytale world you seem to live in."

"Tell me then, besides being an athlete and your son, what do you know about Achilles?" Patroclus isn't normally so cocky. He… he likes this, actually. It's a nice feeling. Is this what it was like to be Achilles all the time? So confident in himself, able to say whatever he wants with no regrets? 

For the first time, Thetis looks mildly surprised. "Achilles? He's…" She trails off and looks back at the track. Odysseus has the baton, and he's quickly approaching Menelaus. Even from here, Patroclus can see the bruises that mottle their skin from Achilles' rage. "He's a good kid," Thetis finishes. "Social. Everyone likes him. He's always had lots of friends."

"Name one of them," Patroclus says. 

Thetis exhales loudly. "He's always really liked running."

"That doesn't count." Patroclus leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees. Menelaus is almost at Achilles. His boyfriend is in position, legs bent in a lunge and his hand out behind him ready to take the baton. 

"If you have a point, hurry up and make it. I don't appreciate riddles."

Achilles glances up at Patroclus in the stands. He flashes a wide grin. There's just the briefest flash of purple going from Menelaus' hand to Achilles' and he's off, bolting down the straight part of the track. His legs and shoulders are pure muscle, but all Patroclus can think of is how easily Achilles curls into his arms. How small he could make himself, how fragile his heart was. 

"Did Achilles tell you how we met?" Patroclus asks. 

"I already know." She sounds exasperated. "The tutoring-" 

"Oh, no, it was more than that." Patroclus smiles. "You see, one of my coworkers called in sick and I had to take her place. She had this terrible statistics student. He'd failed his first homework so bad, there was no hope for him..."

Thetis doesn't turn to face him, but Patroclus sees her interest peak in the way her eyes glint. 

...

Achilles’ shock is plain as day when he finds his way back to Patroclus laughing and telling a story while waving his hands animatedly, and Patroclus is surprised he doesn’t pass out when Thetis covers her mouth to hide the faintest smile that crosses her lips.

“Are you both okay?” he asks, voice tiny. "Dying? Are you dying?" 

Thetis’ smile falls, but it had definitely been there. They’d both seen it. “Patroclus was just telling me you thought ‘chartreuse’ was a country in Europe,” Thetis explains shortly. Patroclus snickers again at the memory.

“Uh.” Achilles looks at Patroclus, eyes wide with confusion. “Okay? It was an honest mistake.” He climbs past his mom and sits on the other side of Patroclus. His gaze searches for answers, going back and forth from Thetis to his boyfriend, but Patroclus isn’t exactly sure he can even explain himself.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Patroclus spares it with a quick glance. _wtf happened???_ It seemed he was going to have to find an answer for Achilles anyways.

“You said he set off the fire alarms in the dorm making coffee,” Thetis prompts.

_I just told her about us, what memories we’ve made together._ Achilles frowns, unsatisfied, but it was the truth.

Patroclus isn't much on his own- he knows this. But being with Achilles had changed him for the better. Each moment with him was priceless, worthy of being shared. Their story was one worth telling. Thetis didn't know the boy who overflowed with hope for life and radiated light like the sun, and Patroclus intended to fill her in on the years she'd lost with Achilles. 

As Patroclus had told Thetis more, he saw the hostility slowly drain from her body. The times Achilles would play him love songs on his guitar before they were together and sing quietly under his breath, glancing up at Patroclus from behind his eyelashes when the chorus started. Achilles almost falling through the pond on campus when he thought it had frozen over. When Achilles insisted they go to a fundraising run and had to carry Patroclus on his back the last mile after he collapsed from exhaustion. The happy moments they shared together, the times Patroclus wouldn't know how to comfort Achilles except hold him tight. There are an infinite number of memories, each second spent in Achilles' wake worth remembering. 

There's more intimate details that Patroclus shares, the small ones he holds dear to his heart and is willing to tell just this once. All the times Patroclus fell asleep to Achilles' forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the solitude of the dark. Lips exploring every inch of his face and always making their way back to his mouth. 

Thetis knew her son as the star athlete, the rebel who moved as far away from her as he could and dated in secret. But there's so much more to him, so much joy and humanity Patroclus felt honored to see every day. He knows it had been selfish to hold Achilles so close to him and hoard their time together for himself. If it makes his mom understand, Patroclus would tell her whatever she needed to know. 

Achilles leaves the meet with three gold medals around his neck and his arm holding Patroclus' waist. He practically jangles when he walks with all the metal clinking together. People congratulate him as he passes by, which Achilles acknowledges with a small wave. He's used to it by now, and it doesn't take any attention away from their conversation. 

"You're heading home tomorrow?" Achilles asks Thetis. "Leaving so soon. Don't want to stick around with your favorite son any longer than you have to?" He grins at his own joke. 

"I have a business to run, son of mine," she replies. "Although we can meet for breakfast before I go."

Achilles nods in agreement. "Oh! Sure, I just have to leave in time to pick up Pat for-" 

"I meant… both of you can come," Thetis interrupts slowly. Achilles' mouth hangs open. "I'd like to be certain you're left in good hands once I go." Her sunglasses are back over her eyes, but Patroclus would like to think they flash with approval behind the shades. "And I need to make sure your choice in a partner is adequate."

"That's… the nicest thing I think I've heard you say about him," Achilles marvels. 

Patroclus flushes at the praise, if it could even be called that. His cheeks warm regardless. "That would be good," he agrees. 

Thetis pauses by her car: a Ferrari that's so sleek and rides so low to the ground it's as if it's the antithesis to Pyrrha's giant wheels and rusty paint job. "If nothing else, you're a good storyteller," she says to Patroclus. "Take that however you'd like… to an extent." She presses a button on the key fob, and the door to her car opens upwards by itself like it's some sort of spaceship. 

"Thanks?" Patroclus isn't sure what to say to that. 

"Don't." Thetis climbs into the driver's seat. She spares a glance at Patroclus. "No, really, don't." 

There's a long pause where her hand hovers in the air, fingers curled around the door handle. She's contemplating something hard. Patroclus wishes, not for the first time, that he could see inside her head if only for a moment. 

"You did well today, Achilles," Thetis says. "You'd do better with new sneakers and more stretching before competitions, but…" She nods a little bit. "Good work. I'll see you tomorrow, Achilles… Patroclus." She closes the door before Achilles can get a word in.

It doesn't matter. The smile that lights up Achilles' face- that crinkles his eyes and deepens his dimples- makes the past few weeks all worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all!!!!
> 
> thank you for being patient and sticking around until the end!!! it was difficult to write, but hopefully it made for a good read :) 
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kenzsza) or [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kenzsza) for updates or just for fun :D

**Author's Note:**

> this WAS going to be a one shot but it got way too long... so it's a two parter! i watched the rsc production of troilus and cressida and WHEW. i based some of my characterizations off of that
> 
> i love you all so much ;_; thank you for your endless support!!! your comments seriously make my day so much better <3 i never would've imagined my writing would get this much feedback!! (insert me giving you all virtual kisses)
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kenzsza/), [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/kenzsza/), or [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kenzsza) for updates or just for fun :)


End file.
